Filling the Gaps: The Throne Room
by Alansar
Summary: Alvin had three days of trudging through snow to plan this conversation. Good thing. He needed it.


"Tell us why you're helping us. What's in it for you?" Milla's face was serious. It almost always was, of course. Still, the question caught Alvin off-guard. It hadn't been asked in so long that he'd almost let himself believe it never would be.

"You're asking that _now?_ Because I love the hell out of you guys, of course!" Five faces gawked in disbelief. Really, he couldn't have expected otherwise, given the circumstances.

But it wasn't one of his planned lines. It just sort of slipped out, and Alvin wondered if it was actually true.

* * *

The discussion-turned-altercation in the throne room had gone about as Alvin had expected. In fact, he'd spent the three days traveling from Xian Du to Kanbalar running over every way he could imagine it would turn out, and it always came back to this result. Gaius was no pushover when it came to what he wanted, and neither was Milla. As the king turned to depart, and the rest of his traveling companions bolted for the door, he stood his ground with a sardonic wave that belied his still-racing pulse.

It was mere moments before Wingul and Presa charged in pursuit, to attempt to do what the throne room guards could not. They didn't stand a chance, in Alvin's estimation. Jiao, on the other hand, was smart enough to stay put, or maybe he just remembered the sound beating he'd taken from the Lord of Spirits and her cohort. Still, Alvin spotted wariness and determination in the set of the big man's shoulders and jaw. The Chimeriad wouldn't get anywhere by detaining Alvin, given how focused Milla was on her mission, but that didn't mean that they knew that. If he was lucky, he had five minutes before the Wing and Fang were defeated. That gave him five minutes to convince Gaius to let him walk out the door unimpeded. As if on cue, Jiao shifted onto the balls of his feet. _Make it three minutes._

"Y'know, they're good, but not that good. They can take the kids, and maybe even the old man, but it's going to take more than a couple of specialists to keep the Lord of Spirits nailed down," the mercenary said conversationally, pitched at a volume to carry to the departing king. "Isn't that right, big guy?" He shot Jiao a knowing smirk. The Horn of the Chimeriad glowered, and dropped his eyes with a noncommittal grunt.

"Oh?" That one flat syllable said it all, even though Gaius hadn't bothered to turn around. _Score one, he's already been thwarted today. Got his attention. _"Explain yourself," the king demanded.

"It's like I said." Alvin laced his fingers behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. "Two of them aren't enough. I'm not saying they're _bad,_" he added, as Gaius' gaze snapped to him, glaring darkly at the implication that his hand-picked staff were somehow insufficient. "It's just that she can dish out artes so fast you'd need a legion to keep her occupied long enough to subdue her." He shrugged as if it were obvious, and looked again to Jiao, a subtle prompt for confirmation. Luckily for Alvin, deception wasn't in the big man's bailiwick. "She is formidable," he conceded reluctantly.

Alvin had only met Gaius a pair of times before, but between those and occasional snatches of conversation with Wingul, he'd quickly gotten the impression that the king of Auj Oule watched his subordinates like a hawk. He decided that suspicion was correct, as the man closed on him with calm, unhurried steps, scrutinizing him intently.

"I take it you have a better idea." It was not a question, but a demand, and Alvin was glad he'd spent the time rehearsing variants of this conversation over and over during their slog through the snow. He could feel his heartbeat accelerate; he _needed_ Gaius to agree, or he'd be taken out of the equation as deadweight.

"Sure. Use a legion," he said easily, and the king's eyes darkened further. Before Gaius could tell Jiao that the mercenary's presence in the throne room was unwanted, Alvin held up a deterring hand. "I know, I know. A legion's too slow, and the Conductor will spot them coming a mile off. But one man is fast, and can get ahead of them. You need someone to tie them down and keep them distracted until the legion arrives. I can do that." He smiled confidently. "For the usual fee, of course."

The proposal had enough merit that Gaius paused and thought it over, before pinning the mercenary with the same intense stare as before. "They won't listen to you. You've already betrayed them once," he stated, folding his arms.

The counter to that was far too easy, though Alvin stifled a twinge of regret. That sensation had become uncomfortably familiar lately. _Stay focused, _he ordered himself, and shrugged, open and relaxed. "More than once. They're forgiving types. Especially the honors student. They'll do it again and again, just like they'll let Wingul and Presa live, even though it'd be smarter to kill them in the long run."

Gaius' brows furrowed. Alvin didn't want to give him too much time to think. "You want me to get ahead of them," he pressed. "If I stick around here too long, they'll disappear in the snow, and it won't matter who you send after them. The Conductor will make sure they're not found again."

The mercenary could feel the precious seconds ticking away as the king weighed his options. Gaius was a tough read; no tell-tale emotions flickered across his face. Alvin forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly, and kept his eyes fixed on the king. Any side-glance to Jiao would betray nervousness. This had to sell.

"And why should _I_ trust you?" Gaius finally asked.

A rush of relief surged through the mercenary. _Gotcha._

"Simple. You pay me," he said, flashing a grin. "Last time they did was in Nia Khera. The Nia Kherans don't have much in the way of savings, let alone runaway med students or the Lord of Spirits. Speaking of which ... " Alvin glanced meaningfully at the aide who usually handled his fees, leaving the implication clear. _You owe me for this last one. _

There was a moment of dead silence, as the balance hung between the mercenary and the king of Auj Oule.

"Pay him," Gaius ordered. "The remainder for today's work, and half in advance."

* * *

Alvin escaped the throne room with a pocketful of gald, a promise to send a sylphjay when he had his companions pinned down, and seconds to spare. He ducked behind a pillar in the great hall as the Wing and Fang of the Chimeriad returned, Wingul's feather cloak bedraggled, and Presa looking like a drowned cat. He made it just to the front doors of the palace when he heard the exasperated cry of _"You trusted him to do what?"_

"See you later," he winked at the guards, and strode out into the snow.

* * *

The trip back to Xian Du was trickier than the trip to Kanbalar. It wasn't that Alvin couldn't make it on his own. He had before. But he hadn't had to do it while dodging people he'd grown to know were observant and intelligent, nor while diverting the Kanbalar patrol groups from their path. He didn't dare risk their exact location getting back to Gaius. It didn't matter to Alvin which of the Rieze Maxian governments nominally had control of the Lance of Kresnik. Exodus already had their own people in place in both governments. No. What mattered was Maxwell, and keeping her safe under a watchful eye, in case anything went drastically wrong with the Lance.

Or at least, that was the story Alvin had been telling himself for awhile. At first it had been "watch her in case she actually is Maxwell." With the ridiculous stories about the Four, and about having never eaten or slept, and the reaction of the Nia Kherans when she'd returned, he'd found himself slowly becoming convinced that if she was a fake, she was a very good one. The rest of Exodus bought the whole line faster than he did.

He could have just let those two kids and their cohort of spyrix-wielding militia kill Milla outside of Nia Khera. It would have solved his problems, he argued to himself on his second night in the snow, curled up tightly in his coat next to a tiny smokeless fire. The schism would be gone, and he could have taken his mother home, to the care she so desperately needed. But somehow the mercenary had found himself at Maxwell's side, blowing away pieces of his past as if all those plans he'd been working on for years didn't matter.

He'd had a hundred different opportunities to kill her himself and get away with it, if he were honest with himself. Apparently he was just as bad about being honest with himself as he was with everyone else, he thought sourly. Which meant that somehow he was out in the frigid wastes of Auj Oule, keeping watch over a handful of people he'd just betrayed and promised to betray again forty-eight hours ago. What the hell was the matter with him?

He didn't like any of the answers that presented themselves, and shoved them away before rolling over and trying to get some sleep. It did not come easily. After about three hours of fitful rest, he gave up, and worked his way quietly ahead of the others. They'd be on their own today, but he wasn't worried about that. No errant patrols would get back to Kanbalar before his letter did. He made Xian Du at daybreak, and took one of the spirit-powered elevators up to the sylphjay dovecote.

The boy minding the cote let him in with a sleepy yawn. Alvin found himself near a roaring fire for the first time in three days, fingers finally thawing out and of two minds what to write. He'd taken the money, after all. A betrayal here would probably burn his bridges with Auj Oule long-term, but ...

A few less-than-elegant strokes of the pen, and it was done. He tossed the boy an extra coin from the king's payment, and went to find himself some breakfast at the tavern with the best view of the Mon Highlands gates.

* * *

And there they were, right on schedule. Alvin dropped a handful of gald on the table and made for the back elevator. It slid open to reveal his companions just a few paces away. _Huh, and there's Yurgen. That's convenient._

"You in some kind of hurry?" he overheard the Kitarl wyvern trainer ask. Jude clamped his hands over Teepo's mouth, while Rowen moved to intercept any further questions. _Perfect timing._

"No need to rush off." He ambled forward with a casual salute.

The incredulous "_Alvin?_" from Jude and the shocked looks on each of their faces were priceless, and the mercenary didn't bother to hide a grin. "They're on a wild goose chase in the mountains right about now," he explained.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to buy him a hearing. Alvin steeled himself for the conversation he was about to have, and suddenly wished he felt half as prepared as he had in Gaius' throne room.


End file.
